


Another Holiday, Another Job

by hunters_retreat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Mutual Pining, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-06
Updated: 2008-07-06
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5327243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester boys hate holidays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Holiday, Another Job

 

It was an unspoken truth between the Winchester brothers.  They hates holidays with about the same passion as normal people loved them.  Christmas had always been a disappointment, a time of year when families drew close together and the Winchesters were never farther apart.  When their father wasn’t hunting something, he tended to drink himself into oblivion, preferring the dream Christmas with his wife and two adoring sons in their perfect little life in Lawrence, Kansas to the haunted reality of the past 24 years.  Thanksgiving was barely a blip on the Winchester holiday radar.  In fact Sam hadn’t known how to celebrate Thanksgiving until he had gone home with his college roommate who lived for any holiday and couldn’t stand the idea of Sam being alone for one.  He’d only made it through without incident by thinking of what Dean would do and imitating his big brother’s charm and easy going manner.  He’d felt it was a major accomplishment to make it out alive and without upsetting what was supposed to be a traditional American holiday without having to explain how he had never celebrated it before.  Birthdays came and went and except for Dean, no one else remembered the day Sam was born.  His father never missed the 6 month anniversary of it, but other than another drinking stint nothing was ever said about it.  Not even Dean touched that one.

 

 

There were a few that weren’t so bad.  Groundhogs Day was fun and they celebrated that because – why the hell not?  Nothing came out of the woodwork like Halloween.  Leap Day was the best and every four years the brothers celebrated the extra day of Leap Year like there was no tomorrow.  They said things, did things that were never brought up again because it was the Day That Never Was and normally, they ended up too drunk to remember in the morning anyway.  Sometimes there were confusing aches and pains, bruises that he couldn’t remember, but that was all part of the Day That Never Was.  They didn’t look into it, didn’t try to remember, and didn’t try to hold what they could remember against each other.  It hadn’t happened.

 

 

President’s Day was OK.  Fourth of July was murder.  Literally.  Out of the woodwork, honestly.  The monsters used the fireworks and the general mayhem of the day to cover their dirty work.  St. Patty’s Day was fun most of the time.  Although there had been that one a few years back when the leprechauns had decided to take control of the holiday that had been so distorted by American culture.  That had been messy.

 

 

Valentine’s Day though, in Sam’s opinion, was one of the worst.  First, Valentine’s Day always sucked when you didn’t have someone else to share it with.  For him it had always just been a day when you were reminded completely of the normal he had always craved and could never have.  When he had been with Jess it had been worse because while he had the girl, he’d lost his family for it.  His worst Valentine’s Day had been hiding his pain from Jess about wishing his brother was there.  He could imagine them on a double date, spending a lavish amount on their girls and only parting company when the evening grew so late that it was time to take their respective ladies home for bed.  That was the sort of normal he wanted.  He had never wanted to leave Dean, had always hoped that someday his brother would learn that Sam’s idea of normal meant both of them, not just Sam.

 

 

Outside the ordinary pain of the holiday though were the amount of people that tried to use spells and curses, amulets and talismans to make the person they cared about love them.  Or even look at them.  Too many stupid spells in mainstream bookstores or websites that got little bits and pieces right that ended up playing havoc with people’s lives and never in a good way; an amulet that was supposed to make that person love them, only it made everyone within 10 feet violently possessive of them, a spell to make a boyfriend pop the question ended with him asking someone else, or a prank to make a too shy friend more outgoing that turned the friend into a sex-craved maniac. 

 

 

He hated Valentine’s and hated the things people did to one another over it.  If you loved someone, why did you need all that crap anyway?  He’d never understood it.  But then again, he and Jess had been lucky to have one another.  He’d tried to celebrate every day with Jess in the little ways that mattered.  One day out of all the others seemed too little too late if you asked him. 

 

 

So here he was on Valentine’s Day in the middle of rural Ohio, looking at a love letter that had been cursed, an ex’s idea of valentine fun.  The spell had been meant to make the man fall back in love with her, only he’d never actually been in love with her in the first place.  Because there had been no love, the spell had turned into a pretty nasty curse, like all the hate that had once been between them had started breathing and spouting out violence.  A very contagious violence.

 

 

He didn’t want to know how many people had been affected by it, or how many more would be before the day was over.  The letter had to be burned to stop the curse from spreading anymore, but they had no idea how long it would take the curse to wear off of those it had already infected.  Dean had carried it in his pocket, careful to touch it only with his sleeves.  Sam was doing the same.  The last thing either of them needed was to be hit by cupid’s wacked out arrow and have some long lost love entering their lives.

 

 

Looking at his brother, he wasn’t sure what would happen.  The only love he had outside his family had been Jess.  He couldn’t name anyone that Dean had cared that much for.  Too much running and too many lies to tell.  Hell, even when Dean had got comfortable enough to tell someone, he had told them early enough that it had been easy to drop the chains and make a run, heart still in tact.  Like as not, the letter would simply be another proof that the Winchester boys were hopeless and would never have the normal that Sam so often craved.  Hell, if he could get a hint that Dean … he shook that thought out of his head before it could go any further.  Yep, Sam craved normal, but it wasn’t the only thing he craved and some of those were decidedly un-normal. 

 

 

The light was beginning to fade in the sky and Valentine’s all over the world were just beginning to get to their cars, making their way to romantic interludes.  Sam looked over at Dean who gave him his cheesiest grin.  “One more down the drain.” He said, pulling the matches out of his pocket. 

 

 

His smile turned into a smirk as his split lip pulled uncomfortably.  It was the reason they were sitting at the end of a dock in an unfinished housing complex trying to burn the damn thing.  Everyone who had set eye on it had fought to get it back and after losing them they had retreated to a place where they would be left alone.  It was kind of nice actually.  The model home was the only thing completed and while they were showing it around during the day, he and Dean snuck in at night and took full advantage of it’s amenities.  They’d watched the construction crews leave and had headed to the dock to sit back and burn the letter, six-pack in hand. 

 

 

“Can we just burn this thing already?” Sam asked with a sigh.  He wanted nothing more than a few drinks and to head back to a warm bed and forget the events of the day.  Why had he even agreed to this job anyway?

 

 

“Because it was the only thing that’s come up.” Dean said as he lit the match. 

 

 

Sam looked at him, not realizing he had spoken aloud.  It happened too often with Dean lately, saying things he didn’t mean to or wouldn’t to anyone else.  “Yeah.”  Though he mentally added in that Dean had been driving him nuts the last place they had been holed up.  Small towns we’re alright, but a small room, a bored Dean, and no cable were all the makings of a headache for Sam.  He’d have faced off with just about anything to get out of that room and onto the open road.   He put the love letter into the cheap firepit they’d found close by and Dean’s match struck the first page of the letter, catching with a slow born instead of the instant coverage they were used to.  Maybe they should have put something on it …

 

 

“Or you really wanted to bring me to a romantic spot for Valentine’s Day.”  Dean’s smile was seductive and charm and everything that had turned a thousand heads in their travels. 

 

 

Sam smacked Dean in the back of the head and for a minute all the troubles of the past few weeks seemed to melt away and they were just two brothers, messing around after a day’s work.  Dean punched Sam’s arm and Sam threatened to throw him in the lake. 

 

 

“Think you can Sammy boy?” Dean taunted. 

 

 

Dean had a thousand grins and he knew that this one meant mischief even if it didn’t show to anyone else.  It was more a look in the eye than a set of the mouth and he knew what was coming.

 

 

Dean launched himself at Sam without thought and the two wrestled around the dock.  Sam was getting the better of Dean, mostly because Sam was using his extra reach to tickle Dean who had a weak spot on his right side, just above the hip bone.  He couldn’t remember laughing that much in ages. 

 

 

They didn’t surrender until both of them ended up in the lake.  Dean’s taunt had been the start of something, but in the end, Dean’s experience beat out over Sam’s extra height and weight.  However, when Dean threw him over the dock, he hadn’t accounted for Sam’s arm reach and he was able to pull Dean in with him. 

 

 

Both stumbled back onto the dock, sputtering and laughing and bumping into one another with good natured fun before settling down and breaking into the six pack.  They drank in silence, nothing bothering the momentum of the easy peace that crept between them.  When it was time to go, Dean grabbed the firepit and dumped the ashes into the hole Sam had dug while Sam threw the six pack into the trash canister by the dock. 

 

 

“Um…”

 

 

Looking back at Dean, he saw a small amount of smoke in the hole he’d dug.  He took a deep breath before asking, “What’s that?” 

 

 

“There was a small piece that didn’t burn Sammy.”

 

 

He resisted the urge to tell him his name was Sam but held his tongue considering how well the rest of the evening had been going.  “OK. So it’s burning now and we can head back.  I need a show-“

 

 

“I touched it Sammy.”

 

 

“My name is Sam, and Dean, how could you touch it?”  It was careless.  Careless on both their parts and Sam knew it, but he couldn’t help the nervous tremor that ran through him. 

 

 

“I thought it was something left in the hole.” Dean at least looked apologetic as he said it.  Looked and sounded, but Sam wanted to curse anyway.  “I picked it up to see what it was.  How was I supposed to know the edge of the first page hadn’t burned all the way through?”

 

 

Sam took a deep breath and sighed.  “Great.  Just great.  So now we have to worry about you running off to your long lost love?  Feeling any inclinations to go anywhere Dean?” He asked.

 

 

Dean shook his head.  “No.  Just want a shower.  Hope they clean the lake up before all these people pay good money for their docks.”

 

 

Sam shook his head.  He’d have to find a way to keep Dean under lock and key until they were sure the curse was broken, because he had no doubt that, mostly burnt or not, the curse had touched his brother.  How?  Because they were the Winchester boys and there was no way they had come that close to a curse and not been screwed by it.  The only problem with keeping Dean in lock down though, was that Dean could pick any lock he came across.  This was going to be a long night.

 

**

 

He was going to break the door down.  Honest to god, he was going to break the door down and damn his little brother.  He needed a shower.  After a game of rock, paper, scissor Sammy had won the right to the first shower.  Damn rock got him every time.

                 

So now he was sitting in itchy, stand by themselves clothes, waiting for Sammy to get out of the shower so he could feel clean again after their episode in the lake.  It’d been fun but damn if the lake didn’t seem to have been used as a trash dumpster and while the scent hadn’t been noticeable when they were sitting on the dock, it was now.  He left the blinds to the room shut, but the window open to let some fresh air into the stale room. 

 

It wasn’t enough.  He growled in frustration and his patience was at it’s end.  Stripping out of his filth, he stalked into the shower.  Never mind that his brother was still in the shower, water still running full blast, still naked as the day he was born.  Never mind that said brother was going to kill him for this sometime.  He wanted clean and he didn’t care. 

 

Throwing back the shower curtain he barely registered Sammy’s astonished gasp as he stepped in front of Sammy.  “Need in the shower.” He said just as stepped into the water.  Nothing else registered for a few minutes as he let the heat filter over him, covering his tired muscles in the warm lethargy he needed.

 

When he looked back over his shoulder, Sammy was still there, staring at him.  “What?”

 

“Man … you just walked into my shower.  Got a hot date you forgot to tell me about?”

 

Sammy looked concerned, but that was nothing new.  Sammy was always worried about something.  Dean could barely remember a time when Sammy wasn’t.  He’d tried his best to keep him out of things, but in the end there was no way to do it.  He was a Winchester and no matter how hard Dean tried to protect him, Dad was there and wasn’t going to let Sam go around unprotected and unknowing.  It was the knowing that bothered Dean because he sure as hell made sure Sammy was always protected. 

 

“No, I just needed to be clean Sammy.  You’ve been in here forever.”

 

Sammy did that scoff that he did so well, the one that irritated the hell out of him and made him want to shut him up in a most un-brotherly fashion.  He took a deep breath even as Sammy said “Dean, it’s only been 5 minutes.”

 

“Whatever dude, just let me get clean and you can go back to your shower fantasies.” He wasn’t sure what the sound behind him was, but knowing he’d made Sammy squirm brought a large grin to Dean’s face as he reached for the little bottle of hotel shampoo.

 

 

He didn’t exactly take his time in the shower, but it was probably longer than usual just because Sammy kept making odd noises behind and even better faces if he looked over his shoulder at him.  Oddly enough he just took it for granted that Sammy would stay in the shower with him and not walk out until Dean had relinquished control of the water.  As he stepped out and grabbed a towel, Sammy watched with wide eyes before stepping under the spray again.  A second later Sammy was yelling over the water. 

 

“So … there’s a diner down the road.  Didn’t look like the Valentine’s crowd.  Want to head down there for dinner?”

 

Dean had seen the same thing.  It didn’t look like it would be overly booked for Valentine’s and if it did, they could always get their food to go.  Just get out of the room and let it air out a bit before they had to come back and sleep in it.  As much as he’d like to get back to his girl, the night wasn’t getting any younger and he was too tired to drive her.  He didn’t think she’d ever forgive him for letting anyone else drive her on Valentine’s Day. She was the only baby he’d ever had and he wasn’t about to break the Impala’s heart on such a day.  Even if he did hate Valentine’s Day. 

 

Stupid holidays.  Not that he paid much attention to them, but Sammy did and it made Dean angry to see Sammy so caught up in the holidays that their father had never made time for.  Dean had always tried, but by the time he’d been old enough to really follow through on them, Sammy had already been disappointed too many times.  Those were the times that Dean really wanted to let into Dad, but he had to keep the peace in the house.  More than those holidays, what Sammy had needed was something steady, something safe to come home too.  If Dean couldn’t give him anything else, he’d given Sammy a place to be safe.  It had taken a long time before Dean had realized that while home for him was always Lawrence, Kansas, for Sammy there was only one place that ever fit the bill.  Dean.

 

It had been a horrifying discovery and one that had changed him.  He wasn’t even sure when it had happened, but one day he just looked at Sammy and knew.  There was no place that he called home.  When Sammy talked about home, it was whatever hotel room he and Dean were staying in.  For as long as he could remember, that’s what it had been. 

 

He had his revelation about the same time Dad had his.  Dean was protecting Sammy from too much and needed to stop.  Dean had fought him on it, but in the end there was nothing else to do.  Short of hoping a bus and trying to make it on their own, Dean hadn’t had a choice.  When he was old enough he’d even thought of skipping out with the Impala, but Dad was a hunter.  The way he could track a monster, there was no way his two sons would escape his notice, no matter how well trained they were. 

 

It had made Dean realize exactly how far he’d go to protect Sammy.  It had made him realize way too much actually and that in itself had made him back off and let Dad take over as much as he was willing to.  Dad was never the father Sammy needed, and when it came to things like lunch money and making sure Sammy got enough time to study outside of hunting it would always be Dean.  Dean was mother and father and brother and best friend all rolled up into one.  And to Dean, Sammy was the world.  Sure, sometimes it took more than you thought you could give, but other times, like when Sammy gave him that certain look, the whole world was yours and nothing else mattered. 

 

He shook his head of the thoughts and cleaned up as best he could as he waited for Sammy.  Something was nagging at the back of his head, but it was easy enough to shut it all off as Sammy came out of the bathroom, steam clouding his vision for a moment and highlighting his brother in ways that made him look more ethereal than man. 

 

“Come on Sammy.  Time’s a wastin’ and I got a hunger to tackle.”

 

Sammy laughed as he shook his head, the worried look in his eyes taking the back seat for a moment as he began rifling through his bags for clean clothes.  About time!

 

**

 

The diner was almost empty, unsurprisingly.  It was a grease trap waiting to catch fire and it was on the shit end of town anyway.  Sam took a seat in a booth as far from the others as possible so they could talk without fear of being overheard.  He noted that Dean was looking for entrances and escape routes and seemed pleased with Sam’s choice.  Even though it annoyed him, there was no way to stop the slight flush of pleasure that came from getting Dean’s approval on things like that.  He could fight with his big brother until the cows came home about the direction his life was going or whether to follow a specific trail or not, but when it came to the job itself, Dean was about as good as they came.   There were no words of praise, but it was praise all the same and he felt good about it. 

                                        

The waitress came over with menus and glasses of water that looked like they’d come straight from a greasy tap.  They both ordered cokes and she was back with drinks and taking their order before they relaxed into their own space.  Sam thought it was a little nice, sitting around with Dean, just relaxing.  He didn’t want to spend the night in some seedy bar, attached to his laptop with Dean hustling whatever local needed to be relieved of his money.  It was a common enough scenario that after their little escape from darkness earlier he preferred to keep the evening light.

 

And to stop thinking about what Dean had been doing in his shower. 

 

There were certain questions one man didn’t ask another and they weren’t just men.  They were Winchesters.  Not only didn’t you ask, but you didn’t refer to odd things like that.  He took a drink of coke to focus his mind on the here and now but the feeling of liquid pouring down his throat made him think of water running down Dean’s shoulders, dancing down his back in waves of glorious absolution.  Hell, he’d needed more than a little absolution after his big brother had walked out.  He closed his eyes at the thought, shaking his head to clear it.  He jerked his eyes open, starting to pull away when he realized it was Dean’s hand on his arm.

 

“You alright Sammy?”

 

There was so much concern on Dean’s face that it was almost painful to see.  Alright?  He was reliving a perfectly honest shower moment with his brother and turning it into his own personal porn.  He wasn’t alright.  He was going to hell.  Hand basket and all.  Instead of giving into the urge to start cackling in some maniacal way, he gave Dean a small grin.  “I’m fine Dean.  Just hungry.”

 

Dean knew he wasn’t being honest, but he’d always known when to leave well enough alone.  Well, sometimes he was and this was one of those moments.  Dean pointed out some couples walking in and he and Sam took turns making up conversation for them.  It always ended bad.  The first time the woman had been upset to be taken to the diner only to be mourning horrible at the end of the evening when the went home and a ghost killed him for being a bad valentine shopper.  By the time their food came, the couple had been mistaken for banshees and shot (because of the woman’s shrill voice), eaten by werewolves, taken by vampires, taken by vampires, saved, and then eaten by werewolves, drowned by sirens on a romantic midnight trip on the lake, burnt to a crisp because they were really ghosts sent to torture all happy couples, and finally, and this was Sam’s favorite, the woman became so infatuated with Dean that she wouldn’t leave him alone and her husband killed her and committed suicide to cover the shame of her indecent behavior.

 

It really was only funny because the woman kept looking over her husband’s shoulder at Dean who grimaced every time she winked, but it was fun.  They had little games like that for as long as Sam could remember.  It went along with walking into a room and Dean asking him to tell what the person behind him was wearing, how many exits there were in the place, what person stood out the most (and why), and who they needed to ask to know what the best food in the joint was.  Observation games were fun at first until Sam had realized they were more training.  In the end, he’d realized this was also, a way for Dean to teach Sam more about the mythology of the beast they were hunting without scaring him in the beginning, but it had taken so long that it was just a part of who they were.  He couldn’t blame Dean for the lessons even if he didn’t want them.  His brother had done his best to protect him all his life.

 

There really was only one question left though.  How was he supposed to protect Dean from himself?  It was one of the reasons Sam never acted on his feelings.  Two guys in love.  Problems?  Sure.  Impossible?  Never.  Two brothers?  Taboo?  Sure.  Impossible?  Never.  Would Sam ever know if Dean gave in because he wanted to, or because Sam asked it of him?  Never.  And that was the crux of the problem.  He could handle Dean saying no.  He could deal with that and more importantly, he knew that he and Dean would get through it OK.  But he could never answer that question in the back of his head.  Could Dean give that much for his ‘Sammy’?  Yes, it was possible.  Maybe not probably, but it was there and he couldn’t forget the years of Dean watching him eat to make sure he got his fill before he ate his own, of Dean turning school bully when Dad forgot to leave them lunch money and he’d terrorized the other kids until Sam had enough, of the countless times he’d backed down from a fight because Sam had been upset and needing Dean to sooth him. 

 

He took a deep breath as his coke was refilled, smiled warmly at Sara, the tired waitress who still smiled even though she was moving with a stiff gait, and wondered what the hell he was doing out on Valentine’s Day, thinking about things like this.  He supposed he was supposed to be mourning Jess, but he couldn’t.  He’d always think of her and there would never be a time he didn’t wish she had survived, but this was the path this life had taken now and he couldn’t regret that choice.  In one way, he was glad he’d never had to choose though.  If Dean had come back later and asked Sam to the hunt again, he wasn’t sure Stanford and school and Jess would have been enough to keep him back.  This was the life he was born to live and denying his family and his calling had been the worst choice in what would later be a long line of them.

 

Dean, on the other hand, was all warm and smiles tonight.  He didn’t even seem to notice the women who came in, focusing instead on Sam.  He wasn’t used to it to this extent and even while he registered it as odd, he didn’t think much on it.  He didn’t want to because it was nice to be the center of Dean’s focus every once and a while.  The center of Dean’s focus was the center of the universe really.  Sam had always known it and when they had been growing up, had preferred to be the center of that always.  He’d been jealous when they got older and Dean started to pull away, their Dad taking more time to train Dean and Sam and they were left along less and less.  Hunting because a father- eldest son thing and when Sam was old enough, a whole family thing. 

 

At some point things had shifted between Dean and himself.  He hadn’t understood at the time and he’d begged Dean to tell him what he’d done wrong but Dean wouldn’t budge.  Sam had pushed and pushed and pushed until Dean had finally snapped and hit Sam.  It had been the first time he’d ever raised a hand to Sam outside of sparring.  It was one of the last too, but he’d never known what had caused it and he still didn’t.  It was one of those unsolved mysteries in life.  Of course, unsolved mysteries were their bread and butter …

 

“Hey Dean.  I was just thinking about when we were kids.”

 

“Are we going to have to cry after this?”

 

“Ass.”

 

Dean flashed a smile and Sam laughed in spite of himself.  “Do you remember the first time you hit me?”

 

He hesitated before answering.  “No Sam, can’t say I do.  Had to have been over something stupid you did.” 

 

His answer was light and the typical banter they’d been sharing tonight, but Sam had seen the moment of unguarded reaction before he’d closed it up.  Pain.  Whatever Sam had done, Dean still remembered and it still bothered him. 

 

“Come on Dean, I know you remember.  You never forget these sort of things.”  It was true.  No matter how much Dean hated chick-flick moments, he didn’t forget what happened between them.  Even if words went unsaid, Dean knew.  It was uncanny and if Sam weren’t the psychic one, he’d say Dean was a bit too empathic towards himself to be straight laced like that.  “What was it about?  I never did figure it out.”

 

Dean looked like he wanted to be sick, but he was very good at pulling a mask of indifference over his features when he needed it.  He was on guard now against Sam’s questions, but there was a look in his eye that said maybe Sam would get the answer he wanted tonight.

 

“Look Sammy, when we were little …”  He took a deep breath before continuing “all we had was each other.  Dad thought I protected you too much, that I did too much for you.  I don’t know Sammy … I guess I realized I was too close to you.  I had to back off and let you fend for yourself or you’d never make it out here.”  He shook his head.  “I never wanted to.  Dad and I fought about it but he was right in the end.  After fighting with Dad about it though, you wouldn’t leave it alone.”

 

He listened with his mouth slightly agape.  “You were fighting with Dad about me?”

 

Dean gave that smile that seemed reserved for him.  It was the I’m-your-big-brother-of-course-I-did-that-for-you smile.  “What else have you ever heard me fight with Dad about?” he asked.

 

Sam shook his head.  “Nothing.  I mean, I never heard you right with him Dean.  Not ever.”

 

“Well we might not have been the Cleavers, but I tried to keep you out of those things Sammy.”

 

Sam felt a bit awe struck by that thought and let it drop, thinking of all the times in his life when his Dad had miraculously changed his mind about things Sam had wanted and Dad had said no to.  Like summer camp or going to the movies by himself.  Of course he’d always had the sneaking suspicion that Dean had followed him to the movies and it was a fact that Dean had camped out not far from where Sam’s class had been, but his father had been entirely set against them both at first.  Still they had been little things that had made him feel less a freak and more like a regular kid.

 

Dean kept the conversation light and as they made their way back to their room, Sam let his brother lead him on, knowing he was in good hands.

 

**

 

Almost as soon as they stepped away from the diner, Sammy was on edge. Dean could sense it, could tell that his brother was thinking something over too much and he made up his mind to make sure he stopped. As they walked, he put his hand on Sammy’s lower back to guide him safely back to the car and once out he did the same to their room. 

                  

He’d opened the door and let Sammy in first.  There was nothing different about the room but something felt different to Dean.  Maybe it was because of the questions Sammy always asked.  For someone as smart as he was, he wasn’t smart enough for his own good.  Talking about what had caused their first physical fight would have normally sent him off the deep end.  Tonight had been mellow enough that he’d talked a little about it.  Not the whole of course.  Not the, I-know-I-love-you-but-I-can’t-have-you-and-it-would-be-so-bad-for-you-so-I’ll-back-the-fuck-off-now truth.  Just the too-close-need-you-to-be-stronger line, and the truth was it was only a line.  Sammy was the only one who failed to notice that he was the strongest of the Winchester men.  In some ways, he was too much like Dad, but there was his influence as well and sometimes even Mom’s.  Dad said it every once in a while, especially when they’d been younger.  Never for Sam to hear, but more to Dean.  He didn’t say thank you for teaching Sam, but they both knew it was Dean passing on what little he remembered of his mother. 

 

Sammy kicked off his shoes and threw himself on the nearest bed.  After a few cokes with dinner, they’d starting drinking beers and they were both pleasantly relaxed.  Except that muscle on Sammy’s jaw that kept tensing.  He had the insane desire to lick it and found himself standing over the bed before he realized he’d moved.

 

He closed his eyes then, realizing with a horrifying clarity what was happening.  God he’d buried all of this years ago.  He’d never moved past it because it wasn’t like there was much chance of upward and onward, but he’d denied it to the point he almost didn’t recognize it for what it was anymore.

 

“Sammy, take the car.  Take the car, don’t tell me where you’re going, and get out.”

 

Sammy sat up in bed, eyes wide with concern.  Dean took another step closer, wanting to kiss the look from his face, then forced himself back another couple of steps just for good measure. 

 

“Dean, what’s happening?”

 

“The letter Sammy.  You’ve got to get out of here …” before I do something I can’t come back from.  Before I hurt you and neither of us can forgive me.

 

“You mean if I don’t go running out the door now you’re going to ravish me because I have to tell you I’m not really in the mood for this game.  The letter only works on people you’ve romantically loved Dean.  Being my brother isn’t going to do it.” He said with a shake of his head.  “So stop being an idiot and move so I can watch some TV.”

 

He tried not to do it, but Sammy was up out of the bed and the only thing he could think about was keeping Sammy in the bed.  Even as Sammy was moving up, Dean grabbed him and tripped him up, sending them both sprawling on the bed with Dean on top.

 

Sammy tried to push him off, but Dean wasn’t having it.  Sammy might have some height and weight on him, but he wasn’t really playing hard and Dean had the experience.  Before his brother could say anything else about the letter or curses, or brotherly love, he leaned his head down and kissed Sammy softly on the lips. 

 

It was a taste of him and nothing more, a taste of what his love would be like, what they could be together.  Damn, but he tasted good, far better than he’d imagined because he tried very hard not to imagine that sort of thing.  Sammy made a sort of gasping sound and his lips opened slightly.  Dean took advantage of it and slid his tongue between those beautiful lips and tasting even more of the youngest Winchester.

 

He lost himself so completely in that kiss, because damn Sammy was kissing him back and he was amazing, that he failed to notice the tightness of Sammy’s muscles as they prepared.  He found himself lying on his back with Sammy over him next. 

 

His eyes opened wide in shock, Dean groaned as he realized what he’d just done.  “Sammy … please.  You have to get out of here.  I’m begging you.  Before I can’t control myself.”

 

Something dark passed in Sammy’s eyes, something that Dean couldn’t translate.  “What’s happening Dean?” 

 

He wasn’t going to leave unless Dean told him.  Oh, Dean might be able to fight him off and get on top again, but just the thought of it was making him hard and he knew if he got into that fight he would lose himself completely to it.  In short, he was fucked. 

 

“Sammy, the letter …”  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at his brother and see the disapproval there.  “I gave up a long time ago.  I knew that it wasn’t right.  I knew you would never want it even if we could get over the whole not right part.  I got over it, I swear.”  He looked up then.  “It’s just the fucking curse Sammy.  Just leave me alone until it’s over and I promise you don’t have to worry about it.”

 

He wasn’t expecting Sammy to shift his position so that he was suddenly straddling his brother anymore than he expected him to use those large hands to push Dean’s above his head and hold them in just his one hand. 

 

“Samm-“

 

“Shut up Dean.  Just shut up.  I’ve been walking around for months trying to get over you because I was afraid you wouldn’t want me back.  And I was afraid you’d just give in to me …” 

 

He didn’t say ‘because I asked’ but it hung in Dean’s mind.  It was a truth between them, that he had always given Sammy everything he could.  He didn’t know the answer to that unspoken question, but even if he didn’t want Sammy, he had a feeling the answer would always be yes.  That Sammy was talking about it so bluntly, Dean knew Sammy wasn’t being flippant about this or just playing along.  Sammy didn’t do those things.  He meant what he was saying and to hear it, no matter how wrong it was, made him want to do things to his little brother that were sure to damn him straight to hell.  God, what a ride!

 

“Sammy.  Shut up!”

 

Sammy looked at him for a moment, then grinned, that wonderfully Sammy all-is-right-in-the-world- grin that was also mixed a little with the big-brother-made-it-alright-again grin that got to Dean every time.  Dean let out a small laugh and Sammy followed.  When Sammy brought his lips down to Dean’s, it was playful and light, more exploration that conquest and Dean let him take the lead.

 

He let go of Dean’s hands, but only so that he could trace his brother’s body with his own.  Sammy took his own shirt off, then pulled Dean’s tee shirt over his head before licking along Dean’s collarbone, followed by a string of nips and kisses up to his lips.  Dean groaned into Sammy’s mouth and as he swallowed the sound, felt Sammy grinding into him.

 

It didn’t take long for the rest of their clothes to come off and when Sammy was naked before him, Dean was no longer the pliant one.  He fingered his way across Sammy’s body, touching and tasting every scar and scratch on him, making apologies for every hurt he hadn’t been able to stop.  It took a while before Dean was sure he’d made enough apologies and Sammy was threatening to give Dean a few hurts if he didn’t do something else.

 

“Dean, god please, I want-“

 

“It’s ok Sammy,” He said with all the patience he could muster while he had Sammy under his lips, writhing.  “Trust me Sammy.  I’ve waited so long for this, need to take my time and get to know you a little better.”  He wrapped his hand around Sammy’s cock as he said it and all protests left his brother’s lips. 

 

Silence filled the room, except for the sounds of hard breathing and stifled moans.  He let his hands take care of Sammy, let him prepare him for brother so that there was no pain in their union.  When Dean pushed his way inside Sammy, they both moaned from the pleasure.  Dean could see the darkness in Sammy’s eyes, knew that the pain existed but it was in a different place, taken over by the pleasure of everything else. 

 

Before long Sammy was moving against him, pushing and pulling at his brother’s body to get him deeper and harder.  With Dean’s hand around his cock, they both came together, their eyes locked on one another.  They stayed that way until it passed and their bodies were too tired to keep their place. 

 

Pulling Sammy before him, Dean wrapped his arms around him and smiled as he put his lips to Sammy’s forehead and kissed it.  Sleep came quickly after and though old habits died hard, when they woke the next morning they were still entwined in one another.

 

**

 

 

“You love me?”

                 

Sam opened his eyes and looked up at Dean who was watching him with veiled eyes.  He knew it probably wasn’t the right thing to ask first thing in the morning, but considering what last night had brought, he thought he had a right to know the truth.

 

Dean sighed.  “Yeah Sammy.  I love you.  Should I be packing my bags about now?”

 

There was a wariness in Dean’s voice, a panic that he didn’t think even their Dad would have been able to note.  There were some things that only he and Dean knew about one another.

 

He smiled up at Dean.  “Only if you’re taking me with you.”  It felt odd to say it after suppressing it for so long and he wasn’t sure of the reception he’d get for his effort, but he plowed ahead anyway.  “I love you too Dean.”

 

Dean’s smile couldn’t have been a better answer.  Whatever other drama might come up, he’d at least managed to get this answer right. 

 

“You know Sammy … I don’t think Valentine’s Day is so bad.”

 

“Really?”  He asked with a small laugh as Dean dropped a light kiss on his lips.

 

“Really.  I mean, we deal with hearts all the time in our line of work.  Mostly with stakes, but hearts all the same.”

 

He could feel the laughter building up but he couldn’t stop it anymore than he could stop Dean from completing his why-valentines-not-so-bad-now-that-I-got-laid-on-it speech. 

 

“Cupid is definitely a creature we should be tackling if we can find his pattern.  Love charms and potions seem an easier prey for us than what we’ve been after lately.  And hell, I even like the cheesy lacey doilies they had at the diner last night.”

 

“Dean, you know what a doily is?” He asked in surprise. 

 

“Shut up Sammy.  But you know what I like most about Valentine’s?”

 

He shook his head, not sure where Dean was going with all this. 

 

“That you saw the paper in there and knew I’d touch it, knew me well enough to know I’d do it and you let me anyway.”  His grin was blinding and all Sam could think was ‘oh shit, he figured it out’.

 

“You would have let me go back to someone else if it meant I was happy, but you needed to take the chance I couldn’t.  I love that you took that risk.  Hell, I admire you for it Sammy.  We’re going to burn in hell for it, but what a hell of a way to burn!”

 

Sam shook his head.  “Admire me for it huh?”  He pulled Dean closer, his lips almost brushing against Dean’s as he spoke.  “Then shut up and kiss me already.”

 

Dean’s laughter echoed through the room.  When he eventually managed to untangle himself from his brother, Sam went to the bathroom and stared at the ceiling for a minute.  It’d been a gamble but it had paid off.  He had the one thing he wanted in the world and while there might be some real nasty surprised in store for them, if he was with Dean he knew they could get through it together.

 

Smiling as he walked back out to find a very naked man patting the bed beside him with an inviting grin on his face, Sam thanks all the gods that ever were for Valentine’s Day.  After all, as Dean had taught him so long ago, holidays weren’t really about the day of the year as much as they were about the people you celebrate them with.  Without someone in your life, Valentine’s Day was just a stupid day.  With Dean in his life, all bets were off. 

 

And after all, if the Winchesters could come to love a holiday, maybe the world could be saved.

 


End file.
